


Strawberries and Moonshine

by AlannasTara



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Humor, Nine Lives Summer Escapades Fanfiction Challenge, Oneshot, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-05-28 09:36:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15046118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlannasTara/pseuds/AlannasTara
Summary: Carol makes a trip to the Farmer's Market...and ends up with more than just some fruit.





	Strawberries and Moonshine

**Author's Note:**

> My entry for the Nine Lives Fanfiction Challenge: Summer Escapades. 
> 
> Big Thanks to Subversivegrrl for your help!
> 
> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

  
  


_ “Temperatures today will reach a high of 97 with a heat index of 101. Be sure to stay hydrated and try to keep cool, folks. Back to you, Lisa.”  _

 

Carol turned the television off and finished the last of her peach tea. Sweat was dripping down the back of her neck and beading along her hairline. She had the lights out and the blinds drawn to try to keep the apartment cool. Her A/C wasn’t working and her useless landlord hadn’t lit a fire under the maintenance crew to get it repaired, even though she’d already called it in twice. 

 

She peeked through the blinds and saw the heat shimmering above the blacktop in the city square. There was a slight current she could see in the trees, the branches bending and swaying to and fro. Spending her weekend stuck in her apartment did not seem appealing at all, so she grabbed her floppy straw hat, her sunglasses and her mesh market bag, and decided she’d check out the Farmer’s Market down the block. She needed more peaches for tea, and some strawberries for her Strawberry Shortcake she was making for the barbecue this weekend. 

 

As she made her way down the sidewalk, the rubber soles of her sandals sticking slightly to the pavement, she relished the breeze against her flushed skin, cooling the sweat along her collarbone. The chatter of the vendors in the city square, hawking their fresh fruit and veggies, floated past her as she joined the throngs milling about the stalls. 

 

“Out of peaches already, Carol?” Aaron asked, smiling at her from the shade under the awning of his booth. 

 

“You know it,” she laughed. “With this heat wave, I’ve been going through tea by the gallons.”

 

She picked over the fruit, testing for firmness and ripeness before making her selection. 

 

“You going to the barbecue, tomorrow?” Aaron said as he swiped her card through the reader attached to his phone.

 

“At the Rhees’? You know it. I’m bring my special Strawberry Shortcake.” She winked at Aaron.

 

“Not THE Strawberry Shortcake?” He clutched his hand to his chest. “Really?”

 

She grinned at him, her eyes alight with mischief as she answered, “Yes, really. THE Strawberry Shortcake. Speaking of which, have you seen Hershel today?”

 

Aaron laughed, passing her her purchases. “Yes, he’s here. He and Beth are down at the end of this row.” He leaned forward, whispering, “And he does have some…” He paused, glancing around. “... _ rutabaga... _ with him today.”

 

“Perfect!” Carol smiled, tucking her peaches in her bag. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

 

“You can count on it,” he called, waving her goodbye as the next patron shuffled up to the counter. 

 

Carol meandered along the rows, taking her time smelling the cut flowers that Irma brought to market each weekend. She decided against getting any today because they’d simply wilt in the heat of her apartment. She passed the farm fresh eggs Patricia was selling and purchased a half-dozen which she placed delicately next to the peaches in her bag. 

 

At the end of the row she stopped in front of Hershel, giving him a wicked grin as she checked out the strawberries. 

  
“I’m thinking about making my Strawberry Shortcake for the barbecue tomorrow at Glenn and Maggie’s,” she offered, nonchalantly. 

 

“Is that so?” Hershel tilted his head. “Well, you’ll definitely be needing some strawberries then. Good thing we came into town today, isn’t Bethie?” He asked, turning to the young blond who was counting the cash drawer for her father. 

 

“Yes, daddy,” she answered automatically and distractedly, trying not to lose track of how much she’d counted already. 

 

“I know,” Carol said. “It’s really lucky for me. And Aaron mentioned that you had some... _ rutabaga _ that you might be willing to part with?” She fluttered her eyelashes innocently and exaggeratedly before bursting into laughter, along with Hershel. 

 

“I do believe I have some in the truck. Bethie? Can you watch the booth while I show Carol our selection of  _ rutabaga _ ?”

 

“Sure, daddy,” Beth responded, wrinkling her nose and directing a frosty glare towards him. She heartily disapproved of his side “business”.

 

Hershel led Carol to the bed of his pick up truck where he pulled a crate forward and lifted the tarp, displaying the jars lined up neatly, in rows. 

 

“You have the strawberry one?”

 

“Right here.” Hershel picked up one of the jars from the back of the crate and handed it to her. “That should last you a good while.”

 

“Oh yes, of course. It’s perfect for my Strawberry Shortcake.” She passed Hershel the folded bills discreetly pressed in her palm, and tucked the jar of strawberry moonshine into her bag as well. 

 

“You will have one that the kids can eat, though, right?” 

 

“Of course! I always make two. One for the kids, one for the adults. You know little Carl would whine something awful if he couldn’t have any cake.”

 

“You are right about that.” Hershel laughed. “Always a pleasure doing business with ya, Carol.”

 

“Likewise, Hershel.” Carol leaned in and gave him a hug before they made their way back to the fruit stand. “Give Annette and Jimmy my best, you hear?”

 

“Will do. See you tomorrow. Can’t wait to have a piece of that cake.” 

 

Carol crossed to the next aisle, waving to them both, and started making her way back towards the way she’d came. 

 

She came up short next to the display of watermelon and cantaloupe, her mouth watering just thinking about biting into the juicy fruit. She swallowed, and stepped forward, placing her hand on a melon just as a rough, tanned hand reached for it as well.

 

“Oh! I’m sorry-”

 

“No, my bad-”

 

Her words faltered as she looked into the handsome stranger’s eyes, sharp blue and gorgeous as a cloudless sky. 

 

She realized abruptly that she was still holding the man’s hand, and she stepped back quickly, trying to recover her wits. 

 

“I’m sorry. I was just looking at the melons and I didn’t even notice you.” She apologized, looking back up at and him, noticing his eyes straying a teensy bit south. “Apparently you were enjoying them as well,” she crossed her arms and he straightened, blushing at her innuendo, knowing he was caught. 

 

“Yeah, I was-- I mean, no. No, I wasn’t...I just.. Shit.” He facepalmed, looking down at his boots. 

 

“No worries,” she laughed. “I’m just going to grab these here.” She hefted the two large cantaloupe, struggling a bit under the weight and awkwardness with her bag hanging off her elbow. 

 

“Here, let me help ya. Make up for it. I’ll carry ‘em for ya.” He held his hands out, and Carol stared at him.

 

“You want to hold my melons?” She blinked innocently at him. He stared at her as if he couldn’t believe what she just said. Her expression cracked, and a smile lit her face as she chuckled. 

 

He shook his head at her in disbelief, and his voice was gruff, rumbling from his chest as he spoke. 

 

“You gonna let me live that down?”

 

“Nope. I don’t think so, no.” She sat the melons down and held out her hand. “I’m Carol.”

 

Surprise flitted over his features before he schooled his expression, and returned the handshake. 

 

“Daryl.” 

 

“Nice to meet you, Daryl. And now that we’ve been properly introduced, I think I  _ will _ let you carry these for me.” She picked the cantaloupe back up and he took them from her without question. “Do you have any shopping to do of your own?” She questioned as she paid the merchant for the produce. 

 

“I was just gonna get some corn for grilling and some watermelon.” 

 

“Oooh! Corn on the cob! I love corn on the cob! Where’s Morgan at?” She peered down the aisle searching for the gentleman who sold the corn from his farm here on the weekends. 

 

“You know Morgan?” Daryl asked. .

 

“Oh yes, do you?”

 

“Yeah, we met a couple weeks ago. Fixed his tractor.”

 

“So you’re the one who took over the shop on Mulberry?” Carol asked as they walked through the stalls towards the corn vendor. 

 

“Yeah. ‘Bout six weeks ago.” 

 

“I knew you didn’t look familiar.” 

 

“What, do you know everyone in town or somethin’?”

 

“Just about. That’s what happens when you live somewhere almost all your life. Grew up here, went to school here, spent my whole life here,” Carol trailed off, a note of wistfulness lacing her words. 

 

“Hmmph. Wouldn’t know anything about that. Been dragged from one end of the country to the other ever since I was little.” 

 

“Army brat?” 

 

“It that obvious?” 

 

“My husband--ex husband, I mean--was an Army brat. Spent time overseas as a kid, lived in about fifteen states before he was twenty. People who move that much are usually military kids.” 

 

He nodded, shifting the cantaloupe in his arms. 

 

“Old man was Army. Brother was Marines.”

 

“And you?”

 

“I didn’t want no part of that.”

 

“Understandable,” she nodded. 

 

They reached Morgan’s stand, and Carol picked out some ears of corn, holding each one up for Daryl’s approval before making her selections for him. He juggled the melons in his arms to reach for his wallet, nearly dropping them all on the ground. 

 

“Ooof-”

 

Carol caught his arm, helping him steady the fruit before it slipped through his grasp. Once they paid Morgan’s wife, Jenny, for the corn, they headed for the main strip of town, chatting about the town and their lives. It was effortless--as if they’d always known each other. Before she knew it, Carol was at the door to her building. 

 

“Oh! This is me,” she said as she stopped Daryl, placing a hand on his arm.

 

They fumbled trying to transfer their purchases to one another, and finally, Carol stopped him, saying, “Why don’t you just take one of the cantaloupe? Since you didn’t get your watermelon? I have two; you take one.”

 

“You sure?”

 

“Absolutely.” Carol nodded emphatically. “And hey, since you’re new in town, you want to come to a barbecue with me tomorrow? It’s kind of a town affair, and there’ll be lots of people there...potential customers? You can network.” She offered, a larger part of her than she was willing to admit was hoping beyond hope that he’d say yes. She wanted to spend more time with him. Being around him was just... _ easy _ . 

 

“Maybe,” Daryl allowed, shrugging. 

 

“Here, let me just--” 

 

Carol dug around in her purse for a pen and piece of paper, before jotting something down and handing it to Daryl.

 

“What’s this?” He looked down at the paper, staring at it. 

 

“What do you think? It’s my number,” Carol offered, a blush tinting her cheeks and masking her freckles. 

 

“You don’t gotta do that--”

 

“Maybe I just want you to have it.” Carol peered up at him through her eyelashes. “Just because?”

 

“Alright.” He nodded to himself, the corner of his lip lifting in a shadow of a smile. “I, ah...I’ll call ya.” 

 

“I’ll hold you to it.” Carol grinned at him, gathering her purchases up in her arms and heading for the stairs. “And Daryl?”

 

“Yeah?” He looked up to see her smirking at him from the bottom step.

 

“Enjoy your melon.”  

 

His head was shaking as he exited the lobby, her laughter echoing in his ears. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> xoxoxo


End file.
